Walking Down The Jet Bridge Alone
I handed my boarding pass to the smiling stewardess at the gate podium. She scanned the code, and a green light flashed its approval on her screen.
I walked past the long line of economy passengers and stepped onto the carpeted jet bridge. The tunnel was cool and smelled faintly of jet fuel and cleaning supplies.
My footsteps echoed softly as I navigated the sloping corridor toward the plane. The journey to my freedom had officially begun.